


Not a Fan

by Guacameowle



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Birthday Sex, Bondage, F/M, Femdom, Jealous MC, Oral Sex, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-02
Updated: 2017-04-02
Packaged: 2018-10-14 04:14:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10528737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guacameowle/pseuds/Guacameowle
Summary: It was Zen's birthday, but that wasn't why she was jealous.





	

**Author's Note:**

> My contribution to the festivities for Zen's birthday!  
> I'm a day late, but it still counts!
> 
> Apologies for any errors, I'll proofread again when I have more time.
> 
> Thank you for reading. xx

On any regular day it would have been manageable.

Since today was his birthday it was near intolerable. 

He was never one to neglect his fans, never turning away from someone who wanted an autograph, a photo with him, someone who wanted to discuss one of his recent shows. She’s painfully aware of his ever growing fan base, his steadily rising popularity. She understands that with his catapult to fame the fandom baggage that comes with it is to be expected.

However, knowing what to expect doesn’t make the ever growing jealousy any easier to handle, especially when the emotion becomes chronic. 

It wasn’t jealousy at his stardom. No, she was jealous she couldn’t publicly display their relationship or her own affections. She felt destined to be forever seen only in the hazy periphery as anyone stared exclusively at Zen. If she attended events with him, it was strictly as his manager, not as his partner.

She’d seen online how Zen’s fans talked and gushed about him. Phrases about wanting to slay him or him slaying them had jumped out across the screen at her. Photos of him tagged on Instagram, obviously taken in stealth without Zen’s notice. Full analyses of his performances nearly line by line. Blogs dedicated to his crotch. Fans obsessing over his abs and ass. Petitions for Zen to cut his hair. Petitions for Zen to keep his hair. Speculation pages about him being a supernatural being with top contenders being vampire or extraterrestrial. A fan page dedicated to people donating money, somehow in Zen’s honor, to wolf conservation efforts – though admittedly she’d donated to that cause, it seemed like a good idea.

She’d been told not to look at what was said about herself. Call it a rare masochistic streak if you will, but it’d been too tempting to completely ignore. The general consensus appeared to be that she was downright despised, jealous fans voicing their disapproval at Zen’s choice of a partner in any and every medium. There was even an hour long YouTube video, with quite a fair amount of views, of an overzealous young man adamantly explaining point after point as to why she was a horrible match for Zen and countering with how he was a perfect contender for the role of Zen’s lover instead. “Like and subscribe! I’d love for Zen to one day see this! Catch you later, lovelies! Muah!” She hadn’t brought herself to read the comments section, but from what Yoosung and Seven had told her it was best she never did.

Through all of this though, she was advised to stay silent on any and all matters regarding her and Zen’s relationship extending beyond manager and client.

That would have been easy if he wasn’t so much more than just her client. It wasn’t even until after they had become a true couple that he even became her client, but nobody seemed to care about that little fact! He was her lover, her best friend, her confidant, her comfort, her home, her…

He was hers.

When a fan’s arm wrapped around Zen’s middle while posing for a hug, her stomach churned. Mine.

When a hand lingered too long on his arm when chatting with him, a scowl formed along her brow. Mine.

When someone was blatantly flirting with him on set, despite her obviously standing right here in the hazy periphery, her eyes flashed green. Mine mine mine!

But because today was his birthday, every action and reaction was potentiated tenfold.

He was receiving cards, edibles, store bought presents, homemade presents, flowers, excessive flirts, coy looks, and more bold touches. He was gracious and accepted everything in kind when he mingled with fans, thanking them for their birthday wishes, smiling, ever the charmer, pulling away as respectfully as he could after what he deemed an appropriate time.

So when his head was tipped down as he smiled and signed an autograph and an avid squealing fan jumped up on tip-toe to kiss his cheek after squealing “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ZEN!” her feet were moving beneath her before she’d even realized.

Pure reflex. Mine.

She saw his expression change from all smiles to one of shock before he quickly schooled his features and returned the now finished autograph with a mildly forced grin before taking a step back.

At her rapid approach, one of the little fans caught sight of her, the resulting gasp creating a steady wave of heads, including that of Zen’s, turning to look in her direction.

Despite trying to maintain composure, her thinly veiled irritation must have shown across her face judging by the widening of Zen’s eyes and the way he swiveled promptly to face her with his entire body. His hands rose rapidly in the air, whether to catch her as she hurdled into him or in a gesture of protesting that the kiss wasn’t his idea. She didn’t know which, nor did she care.

In her determination she showed no sign of slowing her pace, her target Zen. All eyes of the little group of Zen’s fans were on her, she could feel their shock and glares pressing into her more heavily with each resolute step she took. Never once did she glance off Zen.

All at once, she collided with him, his hands catching her around the waist just as hers grabbed him on either side of his face, pulling him forward and kissing him with intent. She felt the shock of the fan posse, heard their gasp, as well as felt the tension ease out of Zen’s shoulders when he sighed and fell into the kiss. 

She’d meant to keep the kiss chaste well enough, but the combined adrenaline from marching over so suddenly as well as finally kissing Zen openly in front of bystanders had her wanting to further stake her claim. A stamp, a flag, a sign proclaiming, “Mine. Mine. Mine!”

Her fingers wove into the hair at the nape of his neck, feeling the shiver slink through him as she played with the strands. She knew him, knew his body, knew his reactions. As predicted, when she gave a gentle tug of his hair his lips opened, as if involuntary, and a light moan emerged from his throat, his hands weaving around her to press her closer.

The gasps from their audience had her smiling into the kiss, her tongue snaking out to flick across his lip before gliding into his mouth with surety. Mere seconds after her tongue touched his she heard a shriek and a dull thump quickly followed soon after with the sounds of shutters clicking off rapidly.

She hadn’t counted on them taking pictures, though really she shouldn’t have been so damned surprised they did. All the better then, let them forever have proof of Zen sucking face with someone that wasn’t them. Another stamp, another flag, another sign.

Point made. 

Claim stated.

She tugged on his lower lip with a quick nip and ended the kiss with an exaggerated smack. His eyes snapped open as if suddenly remembering their location and tiny audience. In a moment of panic his gaze didn’t leave hers, silently questioning what the fuck they were supposed to do now.

Oh, she knew exactly what she was going to make him do.

“Happy Birthday, Zenny.” She spoke loud enough that Zen and the cluster of fans heard every word. His eyes widened a minuscule amount before his smile broken out in a playful smirk, finally catching on to what was happening.

She spared a glance at the group of fans. There were a few things to note. One boy had at some point fainted and was currently being fanned with pictures of Zen by two others. The expressions amongst everyone ranged from shock, awe, jealously, confusion, and downright hatred. Many still had their phones elevated, clearly recording the current situation. 

Throwing on her best managerial sugary smile she proclaimed, “Thank you for your attentions. If you’ll excuse us, now.”

Not stopping for questions, not listening at the groans of protest and ignoring the piercing glares, she grabbed Zen’s hand, lacing fingers with him, before turning on her heel and making a beeline for his trailer a short two-minute walk from where they were.

Zen decided to make his vocal debut once they were out of earshot.

“Babe, are you jealous?” He gave her hand a quick squeeze as he asked. Not looking back at him as she continued to walk forward she could tell he had a stupid grin on his face, clearly pleased with the current situation for some idiotic reason.

Ridiculous man.

“Hmm.” A noncommittal noise was deigned her only reply.

His chuckle behind her spurned her into walking faster, Zen easily keeping up when his hand was firmly tugged.

Just when the door to his trailer was in sight he leaned toward her ear and whispered, “You have nothing to worry about, you know. But… I think you are jealous.”

Ridiculous cocky man.

Mine.

She whipped open the door to his trailer with a huff and stepped aside, releasing his hand as she gave him a nudge to coax him into the trailer.

When she followed him inside he was already turned around, facing the door again with a goofy grin on his face, “You are jealous! I knew it!”

Yes. She was jealous. Jealous that others got to put their hands on her partner in public when she couldn’t. Jealous she had to keep hush hush about their relationship while so many others didn’t. Jealous jealous jealous.

She kicked off her shoes with an angered flourish. Fists clenched to the point of her nails pressing painful indentions into her palms.

“Aw babe, I didn’t mean to make you upset. It’s just… it feels nice that you’re jealous over me. I kind of like it.” He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly and threw a peek her way from beneath his choppy fringe.

He liked her feeling this way? Liked that she was irritated all the time? That all of this upset her?

He began to look worried when her scowl didn’t let up.

He should be worried.

A few steps were all it took before she was directly in front of him, chests nearly touching, staring him dead on in the eye.

She pressed a hand to his chest, pushing against him enough that he took a step back. Another step, then another, and another. His eyes flicked back and forth between hers as she followed him pace for pace until he bumped against the wall.

Before he had a chance to open his mouth, she pressed against him, suggestively bumping her hips to his and running her hands nimbly up his sides to press her fingers beneath his ribcage.

She leaned into him, turning his chin aside with a nudge of her head, effectively baring his neck. It was almost habit for her to bury her nose into the column of his throat, inhaling deeply to take in the spice of his cologne, the mint of his soap, the musk of his sweat from spending a day working on set. The smell usually grounded her, calmed her when she didn’t know she needed a balm for her nerves. If she could, she would have bottled it, made it into a candle, an air freshener in the shape of a wolf, a spray to spritz on her pillow, if only to have his scent around constantly.

In her veins the jealously still burned. Images of stranger’s hands touching him, his hands accepting gifts, a foreign kiss placed on his cheek – they all flicked through her mind like a taunting picture show that she wanted a full refund on.

The eagerness to wash away another’s touch, to dampen out another’s kiss, to ruin him for anyone else, to claim him as her own, flared again.

He’d been still and silent this entire time, though faintly she realized at some point his hands had come to rest along her hips, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles just above the waistband of her slacks.

She pressed a firm kiss to his pulse, feeling it begin to rabbit beneath her lips almost immediately. His thumbs stilled.

“I don’t like feeling jealous.” Her tone was biting, her teeth following after words to do just that along the side of his neck. She felt and heard him hiss at the sudden sensation, the skin between her teeth shifting as he jerked, his hands tightening along her hips. On his exhale his deep groan tickled her nose.

Her bite shifted into something softer, tongue sweeping over the divots she had created, until she began to suck a mark to the surface. She shifted back just enough to view her handy work, mentally noting what a shame it was that the marks left on him never lasted more than a day or two at most before he was a blank canvas again.

Stupid supernatural healing abilities.

For now, that mark was there, and when he stepped out of this trailer back onto set later on in the day it would still be there. For all the little fan posse to see. 

Leaving only one wasn’t satisfying enough.

She smashed her lips to his, desperate in an attempt to bruise even those, to leave them pump and raw for everyone to know he’d been ravaged. He immediately sank into the action, mouth opening to accept her tongue and moaning around it.

Never breaking away, she yanked on his shirt, pulling him off the wall and walking him backwards hurriedly towards the bed at the end of the short trailer. Zen, sensing her urgency stumbled in his steps as he kicked off his shoes, causing them both to nearly trip over them and bump into the small serving table.

When he smiled into the kiss, she bit along his bottom lip, eliciting a moan and a lick up into her mouth.

As his knees touched the foot of the bed, she pulled off his mouth and shoved him.

Zen gave an undignified yelp at being pushed, bouncing on the mattress and coming to lean on his forearms all the while managing to look completely concupiscent.

For a moment she stood over him, panting slightly, watching as he swallowed visibly and licked his lips – lips that were now unmistakably kiss-bitten and bright pink. 

“Shirt. Off.” Her voice was low and steady, commanding. As if hypnotized Zen sat up, his arms reaching over himself to clasp at the fabric between his shoulders and tugging it over his head. He dropped the shirt onto the floor unceremoniously once the task was finished and looked back to her.

She gave a curt nod towards to the pillows, silent edict for him to shift higher up the bed.

Never once did he take his eyes off of her as he scrambled to shimmy upwards. She paid him no mind as he adjusted, whipping off her own shirt and immediately unclasping the button and pulling down the zip of her slacks. 

Zen’s abrupt groan had her looking back up at him. He’d fallen against the pillows, hand dramatically clutching at his bare chest, slack jaw and eyes wide. For the faintest of moments, she had half a mind to worry something was wrong until…

“Is your birthday gift to me trying to give me a heart attack?” He theatrically threw his head to the side as if to faint even as his eyes continued to rove over her near naked body. In her haste to get him into bed, she’d forgotten she was wearing a new lingerie set she had, in fact, purchased as a “birthday gift” of sorts. She had had every intention of wining and dining him, really in Zen’s case - beer and dining him, this very evening before certain events had occurred and put a kink in said plans. 

“No, my gift to you is a reminder.” She was very aware of the way Zen sat back up on his forearms again, head facing forward once more as his eyes followed the movements of her hands when she wiggled out of her slacks. She watched the way his Adam’s apple bobbed when his gaze brazenly traveled back up the length of her legs to take in the white lacy ensemble she was sporting, causing her to internally preen. 

When he met her eyes again, the ruby red of his irises were nearly blacked out.

“A reminder?” His voice had lost his earlier playful edge as he became more inquisitive, breathy now that she’d put on a tiny show for him. 

She dipped onto the bed, knees falling on either side of his legs as she prowled up his body. Her hands slid up his jean-clad thighs, feeling the muscles tighten beneath her palms as she stroked higher. His jeans did nothing to hide his arousal, his hardened cock heavily evident beneath the dark fabric. She reached for the clasp of his belt, undoing the buckle and pulling the leather from its loops before setting it aside.

Leaning in, she exhaled across the light trail of hairs that reached above the waistline of his jeans, basking in his brisk inhale. Just as she pressed a kiss beneath his navel, she snapped the button of his jeans open, almost giggling when he gave an aborted roll of hips as she dragged down his fly. The faintest brush of her fingers down his zip had his cock visibly jumping despite being restrained.

Nobody else made him do this, slowly come woven apart with a look and barely-there touches. 

She sat back up to pull both his jeans and briefs down to his knees, leaving him to kick them the rest of the way off. She chanced a look up at him as she readjusted herself atop his thighs. The corner of his lip was being marred by his teeth, one hand fisting into the sheets beside him while the other gripped a horizontal beam of the headboard, his knuckles white against the metal bar. Entirely naked, aroused, and he hadn’t even been properly touched yet. He still had enough self-awareness to wink at her all the same. 

Nobody else made him do this.

Mine.

She kissed a path up his stomach, careful to not press against his cock in any way. Lips and tongue swirled up hard toned muscle as he twisted and rolled his body to press closer to her with each kiss, each drag of her teeth, every swipe of her tongue. Each exhale from him was partnered with a clear “mmn” from the back of his throat, his breaths becoming pants as he was dragged further into a state of arousal.

When she twirled her tongue around a nipple, he threw his head back and sighed. When she sucked one nipple and pinched the other in tandem, he arched his back and groaned, his hands flying from their bystander positions to fist into her hair and palm against her back.

Immediately she let up before nearly growling, “Don’t touch.”

His hands shot off of her as if burned, his head snapping back down to look at her in question.

She leant in until her lips just brushed along his before speaking, “A reminder.” Confirmation of his earlier question. 

Her right hand reached up to grasp his hair and pulled, effectively yanking his head back as his eyes clenched shut and his hips snapped towards her, his cock just brushing the fabric of her panties where she straddled him. At the contact she finally registered her own raging arousal - nipples puckered, a sheen of sweat dampening her skin, mind fogging with the scent of him, her cunt wet and clenching at the feel of Zen just beneath her.

It would be so easy to roll onto her back, to beg Zen to fuck her, knowing he would gladly and do extremely well if past experience told her anything.

But he needed this reminder and she wanted to snuff out her jealousy.

His bared neck left plenty of room for her to lick along the expanse of it in one broad languid stroke, feeling the rise of his Adam’s apple as she passed over it, sensing the vibrations of his moan underneath her tongue. She nipped at his chin, her hair fluttering with the sigh from his lips as she began to deposit tiny kisses along his defined jaw. 

The skin was smooth and warm over the cut of his mandible to the level of his ear where she hesitated to whisper hotly to him, “A reminder,” he stilled all movement as she nipped his lobe, “of who you belong to.”

“Who I belong to…” He parroted as if drunk, eyes still clenched, lips parted in sighs.

“Mm,” she licked up the shell of his ear as he shivered, “you belong to me.”

“I belo- ahh…” she cut him off, sucking another hickey above the previous one she’d made. She released him, grinning at the twin love bites she’d made. Zen’s fingers were long fisted into the sheets, still unwilling to touch her after her reprimand. 

She sat up, resting some of her weight along his stomach, unfurled one of his hands from the bedding and brought it closer to her face. Zen watched in anticipation, neither fighting the motions nor trying to lead them.

“These hands of yours,” she pressed a kiss to his warm palm, “always touching others, holding others close to you in public for pictures. Signing autographs, when you should be,” she licked the pad of his index finger, his reply a small deep groan, “touching me instead.”

She took two of his fingers into her mouth, licking between them and hollowing her cheeks as she sucked back off them, pulling them back and forth, in and out of her mouth, while she moaned around them.

“Oh God,” he groaned out as his body flexed. The jerk of Zen’s hips had his cock nudging into the cleft of her covered ass, the warmth of his precum seeping through the fabric of her panties and hitting her skin. She pulled his fingers from her mouth, guiding his hand to trail the now wet digits down her lip, over her chin, down the length of her neck where she could feel the trail of her own saliva cooling against her flesh. She continued to guide his hand until she had him palming her bra-clad breast, hurriedly grabbing his other hand to palm the other.

In tandem, she squeezed both of her hands over his, squeezing both of her breasts before finally shifting back to grind down hard on his neglected cock. She threw her head back and moaned as the head of his member pressed against her clit, the fabric of her panties creating a scratching friction that was euphoric.

Zen was near howling, gasping for air. His hips drove upward as she grind down, his arms trembling as she held his hands against her chest.

“Is this what you want, Zenny?” She dragged his hands down her sides and to her hips, pressing his digits into her skin as she rubbed against him. His cock slid between her panty-covered labia as she rocked. It felt good. Too good. Her own moans cascading over him with every thrust. Even imagining stopping for a moment was near blasphemous when she had this man in her bed. 

She felt the flex of his fingers as he gripped harder to rock her hips, trying to control her motions, to press her down more firmly and make her move faster.

“Yeaahh. Yes!” His lip curled as he snarled and arched back onto the pillows, pelvis stuttering out a beat that didn’t match the motions of the hands on her in his frenzy.

With panted breath, and a resolution she didn’t know she had, she lifted her hips off of him entirely, immediately missing the friction and whimpering for the loss of it. At Zen’s shouted cry of disapproval, she clasped both of his wrists and swung his arms up to pin them above his head. Shuffling forward and straddling his chest, she worked fast, grabbed the leather belt she’d tossed at his side earlier and created a makeshift bind to hold his hands to the bar of the headboard.

“I wasn’t aware I had a she-wolf on my hands.” A cocky grin looked up at her as she worked, his eyes glittering in a delicious combination of lust and mirth. “I don’t get to participate?”

Once he was securely bound she gave his arms an experimental tug, pleased when the leather creaked but held. Rather than answering him right away, she made as if to lean in for a kiss, watching how his head rose unbidden to reciprocate, yet at the last moment she dipped to bite along his collarbone. At the littered bites Zen pulled on his restraints, turning his head opposite her to moan openly against his bicep, his body jerking and undulating under her.

Satisfied with his reaction she sat back up to peer down at him, noting that he looked well on his way to being entirely wrecked in a way that only she could make him. Sweat had begun to dew across his forehead, his fringe clumping together distractedly and growing darker in color. A flush had driven itself across his high cheekbones down to his chest. He was laid bare and stretched, a buffet of muscle and sex appeal to be indulged in.

“You’ve participated enough,” the jealousy she felt manifested itself in her words. “I’m going to remind you and everyone else that I have you.” Her nails raked across his shoulders, digging in and dragging down his chest to weave thin red lines.

“Ahhn, hah, aahh!” His moans grew louder as she scratched across him, chest pressing up into her hands. He was staring at her, a feral spark behind his gaze that sent goosebumps down across her skin.

“This pretty mouth of yours,” her finger tips outlined the shape of his lips, “they spout pretty words for everyone, but should I remind you what it can do for me?” 

At his look of confusion, she shifted on the bed beside him, slowly taking off her panties as a look of dawning realization lit up his face. He licks his lips in anticipation and settles himself further down the pillows.

He smiles as she situates herself over him, legs straddling his head. It’s easy to brace herself with fingers in his hair and one hand clasping his restrained ones, to dip the last few inches necessary until a hot wet tongue slides between her folds to lick in earnest.

Her eyes clench shut, air rushing from her lungs in a moan as he teases at her clit with coiled licks. Every kiss, each little suck and lick to her has the heavy warmth of arousal tightening in her belly. Her legs begin to tremble with the effort of maintaining her balance, slipping more heavily onto his mouth as her orgasm draws near. He moans with every weighted grind against his tongue, his hips thrusting into nothing behind her.

It’s familiar, this sensation of him unraveling her apart with his mouth. The world may have his practiced words but only she would have this, the desperation of tongue and lips pleasing her in ways he never would another. 

The scrape of his teeth against her clit has her body doubling over, fingers tightening against his as he reciprocates with a clench of his own. 

“Mmn,” he moans as his tongue dips into her, tasting the source of her arousal. She presses harder in reflex, her cunt fluttering at the tease of being filled. Through the haze of lust, she lets up before she smothers him entirely. Zen’s tongue follows after her, dipping once more inside in sure thrusts. She indulges, riding his mouth and fucking herself on his tongue until his fingers clench hers and she alleviates some of her weight off of him to give him air. 

Within minutes she’s writhing, fire and waves colliding in her as she comes. Zen catches her orgasm, kissing and licking her through it until she shies away from the oversensitive contact.

He looks pleased with himself, chin glistening as he licks his lips for show. 

She takes a few moments to catch her breath before falling upon him, kissing him with a hurried pace. Zen responds immediately with a stifled moan, the leather of the belt creaking as he tugs on his arms before remembering the restraints and huffing in frustration. His mouth was warm and he kissed her with an intensity that left her shivering. She slid a hand into his hair, gripping and holding him close, angling his head to kiss him open and insistently. 

Her heart pounded in her ears as everything narrowed down to the feeling of his lips, his warm skin, the waft of his breath across her cheek – a lusty cocktail that was all hers to imbibe to excess.

She trailed kisses across his throat, drowning herself in his gasps and groans, depositing more nips and marks as she went. Her hands dashed over him with intent but never remained in one place for too long, as if they couldn’t decide where to pay homage first. She trailed fingers over his arms, bit kisses down his sternum, dragged nails across his naked hip. Each action had Zen reacting with gusto – whining, panting, twisting and stretching for more.

She shifted further down his body until she could line herself up with his cock, reached between her legs to wrap fingers around him. At the contact Zen threw his head back, eyes going impossibly wide and gasped for air.

“Babe, please,” his hips began a broken thrust into her fist, “please ahhnn…” his voice trailed off into moans and mumbled words too low to hear.

“Nobody else has you this way,” she gifted him a few steady strokes with her palm, enough to keep him on edge. Intentionally she bumped the head of his cock against her clit and mewled. 

“The world can see Zen, can think that they have you,” she tipped his cock back just enough to tease her opening, hearing his broken exhale and the creak of leather, “but what I have of you is better… Hyun.” The slide of his cock was blistering hot, eased by her arousal and his saliva, as his thickness stretched her comfortably and filled her in a way that only he ever could.

She braced her hands on his chest and rolled her hips, taking him again in a deep slow glide. She rocked against him while watching his expressions, seeing each emotion he’s feeling flicker from one to the next – lust, love, desperation, pain, anxiousness. The small trailer smells of sex and sweat, his moans becoming louder, too loud for the thin walls to contain. Anyone passing by would leave with no doubt about what was going on.

She does her best to control the pace, steady and slow, grinding her clit on him with every bump of his pelvis. She’s taking him, again and again until she feels the steady swell of a pending orgasm rising to threshold. Her fingers slick over the sweat on him, nails digging into his shoulders in search of stability, an anchor, as she begins to bounce faster on his hips. His moans form a duet with hers.

“Hyuuun, ahhh! Hyun is mine.” The rock of her hips becomes faster, shorter thrusts that has him snapping his hips to match the pace. 

The world was enraptured with Zen but she was attracted to so much more. Hyun. The man with a possessive streak of his own, who protected his friends fiercely, who was compassionate and charming, who could whisper filth in her ear one minute and blush when she held his hand the next. Not just the showman, not just a gorgeous face with a body to match. The cheesy, silly, dramatic man.

“Yours. Nobody else.” Each word was punctuated with a harsh thrust of his own. A dizziness overtook her, vision siphoning in and out. She fell forward onto him, foreheads nearly clashing but never once did either of them halt their thrusting. The new angle was enough to bring on the rush of her orgasm, muffling her moans and biting into the muscle of his shoulders as she came.

He rushed to follow as she clenched and tightened around him, moaning her name into her neck when he finally found his release, cock twitching and pulsing inside of her as a warmth spread.

For a few moments they laid there, catching their breath until the cramp of her legs coaxed her into moving. She lifted herself, feeling his cock slip from her, quickly followed by a lewd wetness that dripped onto his hips. With shaky hands she inched upward to release his binds, the belt leather creaking one last time before she dropped it onto the bed just as his arms collapsed.

He looked wrecked beyond repair, a twinge of guilt rippling through her before she recalled that all these marks would fade after nearly a day. His arms, shoulders, and chest were clawed with bright red lines that looked painful. Bites and hickeys littered across his neck and shoulders. His own cum was drying around his lower belly where it had seeped out of her. His wrists were reddened from his constant strain against his binding. He was doused in sweat, his long hair clinging to bright red flushed skin.

But she noticed that despite it all, he had a sleepy smile on his face. He sighed and cracked an eye open to peer over at her as she shifted off of him to stretch and lie beside him.

“You were staring.” Despite his sleepy appearance his voice carried a bright teasing lilt.

“I may have,” she gestured vaguely to all of the marks decorating him, “gone a bit too far. I’m sorry.” She wasn’t sorry for how she felt, but how she had acted however…

He stretched languidly and rolled onto his side to face her, “Don’t be. I liked it.” As if to prove it, he brought a hand up to lovingly caress a hickey she’d bestowed just beneath his collarbone before wrapping an arm around her and pulling her closer to him.

He settled his face into her neck and gave a deep sigh as he cradled her. They could fall asleep like this; she knew from experience. She was set to do just that when she felt lips moving against her skin and a low murmur.

“What?” She gave a nudge with her shoulder.

He pulled his head up to stare at her before repeating himself, “You don’t have to be jealous…” He spoke with a placating smile, fingers brushing along her cheek as he spoke. “We can be more public. I want it just as much as you do I thought that… I thought this was the best way of protecting you.”

Call her crazy but she could feel her heart actually ache at his words.

“Besides, I want everyone to know you’re mine too.” His emphasis was given with a kiss to her nose, grinning as she huffed out a laugh and blushed.

“And,” his voice dropped in timbre, grin turning wicked as he leant in to whisper directly into her ear, “I want everyone to see the beast can only be tamed by one person.”

Even though she rolled her eyes at his cheesy line, she threw her arms around him and laughed as he began to howl and paw at her bra clasp.


End file.
